


Andrew Minyard's Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Day

by thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Neil Josten Is an Idiot, The Shirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 23:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15350907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes/pseuds/thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes
Summary: This is pretty late, but fuck it. Titty window shirt.





	Andrew Minyard's Terrible Horrible No-Good Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write the next chapter of Learning to Feel. This happened instead. I'm probably late, but I just had to write it.

Andrew knew this day would come.  
He stared at his closet. All his black clothes were in the laundry. Every single one. He had looked through Aaron's closet. Nothing. So now he was looking at his closet filled with Neil's stupid colorful shirts. He didn't want to wear one of them, but he drew the line at walking around shirtless. He reluctantly reached for a neutral green shirt that looked nice enough on Neil, but would probably be big on him. He could already hear Nicky making fun of him. Then he saw it. A flash of soft black fabric hiding in the shadows of his closet. He breathed a sigh of relief. A black long sleeved shirt in the corner of the closet.  
Andrew quickly tugged it on and all semblance of relief flew out the window. The reason for this was that straight in the middle of Andrew's last black shirt was a long, thin slit.  
In Andrew's days as a bartender at Eden's Twilight, a more relaxed and experimental time in his life, he had bought (shoplifted) this shirt on a whim. The first time he wore it, his tips doubled and he got laid for the fifth and sixth time in his life. Which was to say that Andrew had fond memories of just this shirt. But he didn't tend bar at a gay club anymore. (Nor should he have been allowed to, he was in high school at the time he did it, but they needed the money, and management was willing to turn a blind eye). He couldn't just wear this shirt out in public. But what were his other options? Wear one of Neil's shirts? Wear no shirt? No. This shirt would have to do.  
There was no practice today, it was Summer, but Neil had gone to court with Kevin anyway because a junkie was a junkie no matter the season. That meant that only Nicky was in the dorm room to see the fateful shirt.  
It took Nicky a second to realize what was up. When he did, his mouth fell open in delight.  
“Oh my god, is that your old Eden’s shirt? I haven’t seen that thing forever! You used to wear it all the time,”  
Andrew sat on the couch and stole some of Nicky’s toast. Nicky almost looked like he was going to complain. Andrew glared at him and Nicky fell silent. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

  
Andrew garnered a lot of attention on his way to the school laundromat. It wasn't like it was the first time that he had run across campus with a garbage bag full of clothes.  
Did they think he was burying a body or something?  
Andrew was stuffing his clothes in the washer when it hit him. Was it because of the shirt?  
Andrew knew toxic masculinity was bad around here, but if the sight of a man in a slightly revealing shirt sent people into a tizzy then they needed to either question their priorities or their sexualities.  
Fuck, he wished he had done his laundry earlier.  
While his clothes were washing, he headed to the campus cafe and bought something with enough sugar in it to literally murder Kevin. And a large coffee, also filled to the brim with sugar.  
When the barista called his name, Andrew was surprised to find her phone number written on his receipt. He looked straight at her. She fluttered her fingers back at him. He looked back down at his receipt. Then he made a show of crumpling it up and tossing it out.  
Andrew stomped (sulkily) back to the laundromat. He transferred his clothes to the dryer. A douchey looking frat-boy walked in with an equally douchey looking friend. They both stopped short when they saw the slit in his shirt. Then they started to snicker. They kept snickering until they were interrupted by a knife thrown directly between them that lodged in the drywall behind him. They took one look at Andrew, who was unconcernedly studying his nails, and then they wisely walked right back out of the laundromat.

* * *

  
Andrew was hanging up his clothes when Kevin rudely walked in.  
“Andrew I need you to-. What is that?”  
“What are you talking about.” Andrew knew exactly what he was talking about.  
“Your- your- your shirt!”  
“My shirt.”  
“Yes!”  
“You're asking me what my shirt is.”  
“Yes!”  
Andrew sighed. “Well Kevin, a shirt is a garment that you wear on your torso. That's the upper part of your body.”  
“God, why do you have to be so difficult? I'm asking you why you're so set on blatantly announcing your sexuality when it could effectively ruin your exy career!”  
Andrew flopped backwards on to his bed. “Fuck my exy career.”  
“Andrew! Exy is an artform!”  
“Fuck exy"  
“Exy is the basis on which I-"  
“Fuck you too,”  
Kevin let out an anguished groan. He pulled at his hair and just because he wanted to annoy Andrew to the best of his ability, he ignored Andrew's efforts to get him to leave and sat on the bed. Andrew turned his head to look at Kevin's back.  
Kevin threw his hands in the air helplessly “I just don't want you to throw away your life because of something as trivial as who you like.”  
And.. nope. No. Not today, Andrew was not going to have this conversation. “Cool.”  
“Andrew are you even listening to me?”  
“Not really,”  
Kevin whipped his head around and Andrew saw a lot more anger on his face than he was expecting. “Look, I’m trying to tell you that you shouldn’t jeopardize your career just because you want to flaunt your sexuality. What is this shirt going to accomplish besides ruining any chance you have at-”  
“I didn’t have any clean black clothes,”  
“What?”  
Andrew leveled his cool gaze on Kevin. “I’m wearing this shirt because I didn’t have any clean black clothes. Not because I’m trying to make you mad, not because I’m trying to ‘flaunt my sexuality’.” Andrew could have left it there, let it rest, but he'd had enough today.  
“Seriously though, what the fuck Kevin? I am a gay man. In this society, that’s hard enough as it is, and I don’t need you telling me that being what I am is going to make people hate me, because I already know. What is it about me that you think people are going to hate, Kevin? Because I can say, from the bottom of my heart that I-”  
“I like boys,”  
Everything fell to a standstill. “What?”  
“I like boys. I’m bisexual.”  
“Oh.” and it made sense. It really did. The Jeremy Knox obsession, the closer-than-average relationship with Jean Moreau.  
Kevin ran a hand through his hair. Nervous this time. “Yeah. I’m not telling you this because I’m trying to make you feel bad about yourself or trying to hurt you, I’m telling you this because it’s the only way I know how to talk about this. I guess in some weird way I’m trying to have your back. Protect you for all the times you’ve protected me. I’m obviously not doing a very good job.” Kevin stalked to the door “I’ll leave you alone,”  
And damn it to hell, Andrew couldn't just leave it like that. Kevin had just come out to him, and fuck if that didn't take a lot to admit. This might have been the first time Kevin had said it out loud. Andrew wasn't going to let him walk out and stew in his emotions without providing a little reassurance.  
“Kevin,” Kevin turned. Andrew sighed. No turning back now. “You shouldn’t have to hide yourself because the world is full of assholes. You’re a damn good exy player. The best in the world if I have anything to say about it, though I’m going to deny that this conversation ever happened if you ever ask me about it. If you don’t feel like telling people because it’s not their business, fine, but don’t hold yourself back because the world is too delicate to handle you. The world will just have to adjust,”  
“Thank you, Andrew,”  
“Get the fuck out of my room,”  
“Yep. sorry,”

* * *

  
Andrew was smoking on the roof. Neil would be up soon. Andrew realized that an upside of this shirt would be Neil's reaction.  
The door opened with a creak Andrew kept his back turned. Neil only saw the shirt for the first time once.  
He took a long drag as Neil walked up next to him, then because he was feeling petty, blew a long stream of smoke into his face.  
“Wow, my boyfriend is a fog machine.”  
Andrew rolled his eyes and turned to face Neil. “You don’t have a boyfriend,”  
Andrew could feel Neil's eyes taking him in, though he was trying valiantly to hide it. “You- You're… um,” His eyes kept straying downwards.  
“My eyes are up here" Andrew was having a hard time not being smug.  
Neil's face was stoplight red. “Oh god" Neil buried his face in his hands and shook his head “Shut up and kiss me before I embarrass myself,”  
“You've already done that,” Andrew said. But he obliged.  
If this was the result, maybe he would bring out the shirt again sometime. This was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and kudos are greatly appreciated.


End file.
